


The Lycanthrope's Conquest

by Nihonbara



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 07:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6745702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nihonbara/pseuds/Nihonbara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred, a newly-turned werewolf, is on the run from his past and finds his way to the small, isolated town of Hetalia in the Rocky Mountains. A place he soon learns is a refuge for the supernatural. The mayor, Arthur, is the Alpha of the dominant werewolf pack and is determined to make the "packless" Alfred join them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stranger In A Strange Town

Blood. He smelled blood. Flashes of the night came. Images of his brother, Matthew's, screaming face appeared in his head. He could remember bits and pieces of what had happened.

Alfred woke, naked in the forest, covered in blood and dirt. It had finally happened. He broken free and done something terrible.

Someone had died last night under the full moon.

Shaken and distraught, Alfred F. Jones got onto his feet and made his way back home.

Never again, he swore to himself.

He couldn't stay here any longer.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The afternoon sun of early September made the mountains appeared painted blue and green. The trees — pine, fir, cedar, spruce — looked the dark green of seaweed. Cool, dark shadows lay all around, growing deeper and longer by the minute.

Behind the wheel of his apple-red Ford F-150 XL, Alfred smiled, enjoying the beauty of the Rocky Mountains. Something he had only seen in brochures and travel magazines before. This was where he belonged.

He would not regret his decision.

Glancing at the map, folded in a square and held to the front of the steering wheel by one of his thumbs, he double-checked before turning off the larger road and onto the two-lane blacktop that wound and climbed up through the pass.

He passed a green sign that read in white letters: HETALIA — 10 MILES and POPULATION: 143.

Alfred gave whistle at that. Was that really enough to call yourself a town? For some reason he had been fixated on going through since he first saw it on the map. It called to him and it was certainly isolated enough for his needs.

A search on a lobby computer at the last motel he stayed at had given little information about the town other than its own website identifying it as a lovely ski resort town. The pictures certainly made it look nice.

The trees crowded around forming almost a tunnel of overhanging boughs, and Alfred switched on the headlights. He ogled the view, so different from the landscape he grew up knowing in Virginia.

That brought a familiar pang in his chest as he thought of Matthew.

"Please let something be on," he mumbled, turning the radio dial. This area seemed to be black hole when it came to stations.

At first it was just white noise and then, "Hola mis amigos," said a husky voice. He frowned, raising an eyebrow. A Spanish station out here?

But no, the DJ spoke in thickly-accented english, "This is Antonio, coming to you from 83.1 Hetalia!"

The town has a radio station? He wondered with surprise.

"Another oldie but goodie from our favorite list of British classics. Here's The Beatles wi—."

Alfred turned it off.

"The Beatles," he groaned. Where was the "Born In the USA"?

The county road rose and ascended out of the shadowed mountain valley. The altitude shift made his ears pop.

He leaned over the steering wheel, peering intently through the streaked windshield at a patch of blue sky. Tonight would be a full moon. Sitting back in his seat, he glanced at the black bag full of his supplies — chains, heavy padlocks, and a heavy dose of sedative. And he planned to tie himself to a tree far from where he anyone lived so that even if he got free he would cause no harm. Not this time.

It still hurt to think of last full moon. The chains and cages had failed and, if Matthew hadn't gotten into his panic room in time, Alfred would have torn him to shreds. Their neighbor of thirty years, Mr. Wilson, and his livestock had not been so lucky.

Alfred had killed. The authorities blamed it on a wild animal, but he knew better. No longer willing to burden his brother with his curse of the past eleven months, Alfred withdrew all his savings — three thousand in all — and left a note for Matthew one night before pushing his truck down the driveway far enough to start it without rousing his brother.

He had been traveling ever since and hoped to find a place where he could harm no one. Somewhere he could belong.

Flashing red lights in his rearview mirror caught his attention and he gripped the leather wheel tighter, feeling a brief panic and then a surge of anger. He always had anger issues before the full moon these days, but every month they'd been getting worse.

Before the last one he almost punched his brother and knew if he stayed any longer he would beat his brother. With each moon it was getting worse.

"Great!" he said, hitting the steering wheel as he slowed and pulled over.

He wanted to snarl, to hit the accelerator, and blast out of here. Alfred had to remind himself out dumb that would be. His truck would not outrun a cop car and there was nowhere to go up here.

Watching the blond officer in his side view mirror, he was amazed how tall the guy was. The guy's built like a tank, he thought. His blue, button-down shirt and black slacks emphasized the guy's muscular figure. And he had a stern expression on his squarish face as he came over.

"Afternoon officer," Alfred said, rolling down the window and putting on his best grin. His eyes glanced over shiny nametag that read in bold, black letters: BERWALD OXENSTIERNA.

"What seems to be the trouble?"

"Did you know your left taillight is out?" Berwald said, placing a black-gloved hand on side of the door and leaning down. His aquamarine eyes, blurred at the bottom by his rimless glasses, studied Alfred.

Then he did the oddest thing — he sniffed, nostrils flaring on his straight-bridged nose. Taken aback, Alfred tried not to gape as he realized the guy had smelled him.

"Um…" Alfred stilled remembering the empty beer cans he had tossed in the back last night. Shit, he thought, wondering if this state had a law against that. The last thing he needed was to be locked in a cell tonight of all nights.

"Are you heading to Hetalia?" the man asked, almost grunted, his gaze fixed on Alfred who felt a rising need to lunge at the man. There was something about him, something that made Alfred feel wolfish in a way he had never felt around other men.

He felt like he needed to prove something.

"Yes," Alfred said, forcing himself not to snarl. "That was the plan."

As was chaining himself to a tree in the forest tonight.

The officer sniffed again and backed up. "I see." Something pissed him off about the officer. He had never wanted to tear someone apart so bad without being in wolf form. Alfred could see it in his head, claws sinking into that flesh. "Are you alone?"

That threw Alfred out of his thoughts. "P-Pardon?"

"Are you with anyone?"

"No," Alfred said, raising an eyebrow. The man nodded as if satisfied with that answer. "Just me."

"On a full moon?" Alfred blinked, feeling a surge of panic. What did this man mean? "Animals get wild around this time. You should be careful."

"I will, officer. Thanks for the warning," Alfred said.

"When you reach Hetalia, get the left tail light fixed. There's a tune-up shop, Ludwig's Auto and Repair. If you promise to get it fixed today, I let this slide with no ticket."

"I'll get it fixed. I swear. Scout's Honor," Alfred said, gesturing as a scout. That sounded fine by him. His car could use a tune-up and an oil change.

"See that you do," the man said, putting a hand on the hood to lean over again. "Oh, and say hi to the mayor, Arthur Kirkland, if you should see him."

"The… mayor?" Berwald was already walking back to his car. He noticed from the logo on the side that it belonged to the Hetalia Sheriff's Office.

After Berwald had — to Alfred's relief — turned around his car and started driving in the opposite direction, Alfred continued on his way.

What a creepy dude, he thought.

Little did he know that was just the beginning.

He rounded a sharp bend, and, slowing the truck, saw his first true glimpse into the valley with the tiny town of Hetalia. Ahead lay a long, downward sloping straightaway and the county road became the main street through Hetalia.

"Damn," he said with a whistle of admiration. He adjusted his glasses and zipped up his brown bomber jacket with the number fifty printed in white on the back. He wished his jeans weren't torn and riddled with grease stains. This was a fancy-looking town, a definite tourist trap, something right out of a magazine of towns in Europe.

All the stores advertised on rustic wooden signs. The architecture of the buildings varied from Norwegian, Swiss, Bavarian and anything mountain-country style. Stone, bricks, wood, timbers, stained and leaded glass windows were used liberally. The private homes were adorned with balconies and front porches with ornate railings.

Was he still in the US? Or had he found a portal into the Swiss Alps. This was definitely a place built to please the tourists who likely came to ski in the winter.

A few residents strolled along the cobblestone sidewalks or sat on the porches and balconies, watching Alfred drive by. Some even waved and he waved peevishly back.

At the first intersection, he braked at the stop sign and glanced both ways, pleased to see a burger shop down the left way, one whose red and green sign read: HETALIA BURGERS

There was no way he would pass up on that; Ludwig's Tune-Up Shop just across the street was an added bonus. Signaling his turn, he headed over.

After dropping off his vehicle and hurrying away from the strange Ludwig and his assistant Feliciano, Alfred stuck his hands in his pocket and crossed to the burger shop.

Outside, the air was cooler, a reminder autumn was coming to the Sierras soon. Although Alfred had always been warm-blooded and his werewolf nature only enhanced that, he still got cold at times, especially when he skipped lunch. He suspected he had a higher metabolism since turning.

It hadn't soothed his feelings when Matthew joked, 'Well, when it's that time of the month, you can't help it Al."

Through the large front windows, Alfred could see customers inside, chatting and a waitress taking their orders. Grabbing the rustic, wooden door, he opened it and stepped inside, feeling the gust of the heated air on his face.

The kitchen was behind the wooden counter, expelling the pleasant smells of grease, cheese, flour, and sizzling bacon. A white-haired man, visible behind the window of the steel serving counter, was setting a red-whicker basket with a hamburger in it down and calling at the waitress, a woman in green dress with an apron, "Another awesome burger, by the most awesome cook here!"

She rolled her eyes, tossing her light-brown ponytail back over her shoulder. They both froze, eyes shifting to Alfred who stopped. In fact, all the patrons who filled half the tables paused and looked at him.

Suddenly, feeling very nervous, he said, "Hello."

The customers quickly reverted back to their conversations, pretending not to stare, but he could feel their eyes on him. Only the waitress, after exchanging a nod with the cook, came over. The name tag clipped to her uniform read: LIZZIE.

"How can I help you…?"

"Call me Al."

"Al," she said, taking out a pen and a notepad. Then she sniffed and he heard a couple others. "Where would you like to sit?"

He frowned, trying not to check his armpits. Did he smell that bad? He blushed realizing he had forgotten to use deodorant and he slept in his car last night. He must smell rank or something.

"Ah, there is fine," he said, sliding into a red leather cushioned booth by the large window. It gave a perfect view of Ludwig's shop and the street. He grabbed a plastic menu, unfolding it. "What do you recommend?"

"Well, you must be hungry," she said with a wink. He frowned wondering… was she flirting with him? "I get pretty starved around this time as well. I recommend the Special. It's only on the menu once a month."

"Once a month? How lucky I'm here today then." He grinned big at her.

"Quite a coincidence," she said with a soft chuckle. "I can tell you're from out of town."

"What is the special?"

"It's four all beef patties, topped with cheese, vegetables, and sesame buns. Plus an order of fries and your choice of drink."

"Sounds perfect. I'll have that," he said.

"You got it," she said, winking again after she had jotted it down and ripped off the ticket.

"Oh and medium-well!"

She laughed as if he had told a funny joke and went around to the service window, shouting, "Gil! House Special. And you better not overcook it this time!"

"Yeah, yeah, don't have a cow, you banshee." He appeared only for a moment to grab the ticket.

A few minutes later she brought him back his burger, he salivated at the smell of it. There was something else he had noticed. The people here from Lizzie to the others smelled odd to him — maybe it was just his sensitive nose, but he swore they smelled odd for humans.

Picking it up, he sank his teeth into it, almost shivering in delight at the flavor. He chewed on it, shutting his eyes. He had never tasted anything so good, so delicious, so… raw?

His eyes popped open and he was startled to see her standing there watching. "Um…" he said, after swallowing. "I think… it's undercooked."

"Oh, it's always served like that," she said. "Do you not want it?"

The truth was he wanted it badly. Since becoming a werewolf his tastes had changed and perhaps this was another lucky coincidence but he found himself scarfing it down like a starving man.

"I'll take that for a yes," she said, still standing there.

"Um…," he said, licking his fingers. "Do you need something?"

"No," she said, dimples appearing in her rosy cheeks when she smiled at him. Her nostrils flared again. Another sniff. Maybe she really was flirting. "Just wanted to know. Are you staying for the full moon?"

"Full moon… um… why is that important?" he asked in a shaky voice. "I'm just passing through."

"Are you alone?" she asked, slender brows drawing in concern. "You shouldn't be without friends. It's not healthy."

"I have" had, "friends back home."

"The kind you can hunt with?"

"You mean deer-hunting? Yeah…"

She gave a laugh and then glanced at the front door when it chimed and walked away. He didn't watch her go, just went back to staring out the window. This town was strange and he was getting sure that after tonight he'd get out of here as soon as he could.

There was some whispering near the door and the other patrons were staring fixedly. There came the clack of heavy booted heels, ones he expected to pass by, instead the owner slid into the seat across from him.

Alfred blinked in surprised as the lean man fixed his lime-colored eyes intensely on him. If the man was attempting to dress like a stuffy prick, he had succeeded. Dressed in dark green from head to toe, he wore a long trench coat. His thick sandy hair fell across his forehead, giving him a mussed, almost boyish appearance. He had a splatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose.

His clear, green eyes were hooded with heavy lids that gave him a sleepy look. His voice was soft and melodic as he spoke in a measured and deliberate way in an English accent.

"I hear your name is Al," the man said.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" Why the fuck are you sitting there? Alfred wanted to add. His anger was climbing by the second and he wanted to leap across and bite and claw at this man. No one had ever pissed him off so bad before.

"Arthur Kirkland," the man said, sticking out his hand.

Tempted to break it, to see Arthur writhe in pain, Alfred used all his willpower to take it and shake. Rage coursed through him; his blood pumped. It was overwhelming. He felt a growl rising in his throat. There was something about this man who smelled of tea and pastries, something that enticed him and enraged him as the same time.

The man used his thumb to massage, caress, the top of Alfred's hand. It sent a strangely, soothing jolt one that made Alfred want to…

He yanked his hand back, shooting to his feet, face blushing and red. "What was that?" he snarled.

Suddenly, everyone was watching intently, expressions impassive. Arthur held up a hand and they all went back to pretending the two did not exist.

"My apologies," Arthur said. "Please sit down. I was merely trying to help you with your urges."

"My what?" Alfred said, remaining on his feet.

Arthur sniffed the air and that angered Alfred further who slapped the table, causing his drink to jump a little. "I got it! Yes, I smell!"

"Indeed," Arthur said, smirking. "You smell divine. Like you badly need an Alpha to nurture and guide you."

"A what?" Alfred squared his shoulders. He was feeling confused what he wanted from Arthur. To attack him? Or to grovel before him? He didn't like what he was feeling. The man had an overpowering aura and scent. One Alfred had never smelled before. It was dominating.

"An Alpha. Have you never… so Berwald was right," the man said. "How long since your first moon?"

"My first… huh?" Alfred tried to remember where he had heard Berwald before. Then it hit him. "That officer?"

"Yes. He watches the roads. Him and Tino. There are only two that lead into this valley."

"And why would he tell you about me?"

"Because I'm the mayor and I'm also the Alpha of this pack," he said, waving a hand around at the patrons.

Alfred snarled, baring his teeth and growling. Arthur stood up, growling back. His eyes flashed with an eerie green light.

"You're a…a …" Alfred said.

"Yes," Arthur said. "Not the brightest, are you git? Everyone in here is. They are my pack and soon to be your packmates."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You want to fight me, don't you?" Arthur said, sliding out of the booth and Alfred did as well, keeping a three foot distance between them. "It's natural. Until you submit to an Alpha, you'll want to challenge others. This town is a refuge for the supernatural. Soon to be your home. A packless werewolf is a danger to everyone. Your rage will grow each moon until you form a pack or join one."

"Stay away from me!" Alfred said, edging away as Arthur approached. "I'm outta here!"

He turned around to see the entrance blocked. Everyone was standing up and gathering to surround him. "I'll never join you!"

"This is for you own good. Don't worry, love. I'll treat you real well." His lewd gaze went down and then up. "Berwald left out how good-looking you were."

As much as Alfred wanted to lunge at Arthur, he knew he was outnumbered. Seeing himself boxed in, he did the one thing left. The one thing that made Arthur's eyes widen in shock. He ran into the booth, leaping onto the seat. He threw up his arms to shield his face and jump into the window, for a moment believing he might bounce off it and fall back like an idiot but no, it shattered, shards slashing his forearms.

His sneakers hit pavement and he smelled his blood — it didn't matter he would be healed by tomorrow thanks to his wolf state. He bolted across for the shop, digging up his keys from his pocket.

This town was insane.

He go no further than ten feet when something swooshed past his shoulder and bounced off the vender of a car. His eyes bulged to see a tranquilizer dart on the ground. Glancing up, he saw a sniper perched on the roof, aiming at him.

"Holy shit!" he yelled moments before a second thunked in his shoulder.

As he ran across the road, he yanked out the dart and cast it aside. Two more hit — thunk, thunk — one in his thigh and another his back. He pulled them out.

His head felt huge, wobbling on the end of his neck. He swayed, the world rocking back and forth and he collapsed on his side — only aware of landing because he felt the warm asphalt against his skin. Everything was spinning.

Growling, he made a half-hearted attempt to crawl. Dozens of footsteps thundered toward him and soon he was surrounded. He could smell Arthur standing over him and see the man's knee-high black boots.

Priss.

"Give it up, love," Arthur said, kneeling over him. "You're mine."

"Three darts is a little much," Lizzie said, nearby. Alfred's head was swimming. "Peter always overdoes it."

"Better than letting this treasure escape," Arthur said, grabbing Alfred by the hair on the back of his head and forced his head back. Alfred grunted, vision blurring. "That face and that body. Maybe I'll make him my mate."

A couple people muttered at that. He only heard Lizzie say, "I can't remember the last time you did that. He is awfully handsome. And that ass!"

"Oh, he's still awake," Arthur said, sounding delighted as Alfred gathered his legs, trying to shove to his feet. He weakly swatted at Arthur who let go. He almost managed to get his belly off the ground as he crawled. "Eliza, please do the honors."

"With pleasure. Sorry, Al." she said. There was a click followed by two more thunks.

Alfred slumped to the ground and couldn't move. His limbs would no longer obey him.

"What a tough guy," Lizzie said. "One should take most of us down. He kept going after four."

"He's perfect," Arthur agreed.

"Think you can beat him?"

Arthur chuckled at that.

Alfred reached blindly forward, touching the toe of Arthur's shoe.

"Still?" Lizzie said. "He doesn't know when to give up. A fifth?"

"Of course," Arthur said.

Thunk.

That did it. Alfred went down.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some dub-con.

The full moon dragged Alfred back to consciousness in the same way it pulls in the tide. Although awake, he concealed it by keeping his breathing even and his eyes shut.

He was naked and bound in standing position to a tree, held their by several coils of coarse nylon rope, which chafed against his exposed flesh. The crisp, cool air was thick with the scent of pine and Arthur Kirkland who stood directly in front of Alfred, smoking a cigarette.

The smoke dull Alfred's sense of smell slightly, but he could still detected the dozens of werewolves hanging back several feet away in the forest. As the full moon approached its apex in the starry sky, his senses were heightening and his blood beginning to boil. All he wanted was to lunge at Arthur and shred his flesh.

"Git, I know you're awake," Arthur said cooly, blowing smoke directly onto Alfred who scowled. "Sedatives never work for long on our kind this close to the Change."

Lifting his head, Alfred glared at the alpha and tried not to blush at the sight of Arthur bare as the day he was born. "Maybe I didn't want to see your ugly mug more than I have to."

Arthur chuckled as he drew in a long puff, the tip of his cigarette glowing orange, then he leaned closer and, right before he blew it again in Alfred's face, said, "You won't think that tomorrow, git."

Coughing a couple times, Alfred snarled, "Would you stop doing that? It's nasty!"

"I'll think about it," Arthur said smugly.

Alfred growled deep in this throat, straining against his bonds. "These won't hold me much larger!"

"I know," Arthur said, flicking away the cigarette. He crushed it into a patch of hardened snow with his big toe. "That's the idea, love."

Alfred glanced at the fat moon, visible between the pine-needled branches. Mountains stretched around, their craggy peaks highlighted by glowing white snow.

"What's the matter with your friends? They afraid to come closer?" Alfred said, peeling back his lips . He could feel the wolf rising in him.

"Them?" Arthur said nonchalantly, as if they were not important. "They're here to observe and prevent you escaping. Otherwise, it's just you and me."

"Wolf to Wolf?" Alfred bared his growing fangs in a grin. "I like that."

"I thought you would." Arthur showed his pearl-white teeth and thickening incisors. A lime-green light lit in his eyes. "We'll see how cocky you are by morning, little pup."

"Why can't you leave me in peace! I've done nothing to you!" Alfred snarled, his insides starting to shift. His breathe came out in ragged white puffs.

Snickering, as if Alfred's words were ridiculous, Arthur tilted his head, nose elongating slightly, and said, "Leave you alone? You're rather ignorant of how werewolves work. How long ago were you turned?"

"None of your damn business!"

Arthur's skin seemed to radiate heat. He sniffed in annoyance. "You'll beg to tell me soon enough. Judging by the contents of that bag of yours, y—."

"You looked through my stuff!" Alfred cried, offended. "You had no right!"

"In case you missed, we don't follow human rules." Arthur said, stepping back a pace.

"I noticed. The tranquilizers weren't exactly subtle," Alfred said sarcastically. "But I don't want to follow your rules!"

"This is for your own good."

Alfred threw his back, laughing at Arthur who seemed unamused. "Bull shit! This is for yours!"

Arthur shrugged. "I admit to a modicum of self-interest, but what I said is true: a werewolf without a pack is a danger to everyone. Chains and locks won't solve this."

"I've been doing fine."

"Have you killed?"

With a hard swallow, Alfred dropped his gaze in shame. "That… that was an accident."

"And you call that fine? This can't be solved on your own. Don't be stupid, git."

Alfred gasped, feeling his body and muscles spasm and clench. Even Arthur doubled over, his body trembling. The Alpha fell to his hands and knees, digging his fingers into the dirt. With the last of his human voice, he smiled at Alfred and said, "Once you've submitted, you'll see clearer."

"Like hell I will!" Alfred shouted; it turned into a roar as jagged, bloodstained fangs pierced through his gums. He knew from Matthew's description that his own eyes would glow an icy blue.

He screamed in agony, the cries of the other transforming werewolves joining his as their bones also broke and reformed. Golden-brown fur sprouted from his flesh to cover him from head to toe.

The scent of Arthur became overwhelming, intoxicating, it filled Alfred with a different need. One that urged him to fall in worship and adoration of Arthur. One he refused to give in to, preferring rage.

The ropes snapped as Alfred's height and girth increased and finally broke completely. He fell to his knees, writhing and scratching at the ground with razor-sharp claws. All he could feel was agony. He shrieked and shrieked until he felt he could take no more, then it stopped.

For a moment, he lay, panting and drooling. Aware of the scents of the valley that told him of the others. His wolf eyesight illuminated, revealing things his human eyes could not have seen. It was like daylight to his wolf eyes. He stood on his paws, relishing how strong and alive he felt.

Somehow Alfred was still aware, but as an observer of his own body. A body now run by its most basic instincts. Never before had he remained even this aware, usually he blacked out and woke the next day with no memory.

Was the presence of a pack this powerful?

A trickle of fear slithered down Alfred's spine as he became aware of eyes boring into him. His hackles rose in response. The Alpha was regarding him with glittering green eyes, ones that had clear human intelligence.

Arthur rose up, lifting his muzzle to the starry sky, and howled, a feral and powerful sound that echoed through the valley. The others joined in chorus and Alfred felt an overwhelming need to join, but his human mind manage, barely, to hold back.

Although Alfred was larger and studier than the lean, grey Alpha, he knew in his bones they were not equal. The other had a great deal more experience and an aura that demanded supplication.

His instincts said run, so he bolted in the opposite direction of the wolves. His paws hit the ground as he flew through the midnight forest, hearing them follow behind.

Crisp air ruffled his fur, shifting as he wove through the trees. The Alpha stayed on his heels. Alfred pounded ahead, his paws hitting the uneven ground. He ducked a low branch and then leapt over a fallen tree, landing softly in a pile of fallen leaves.

When he attempted to alter course, the others closed in around, driving him back. If he could think clearly with his human mind, he might have recognized being herded. Funneled into a ravin between the cragged mountainside. Tall pines towered around him, blocking the light and his eyes adjusted. Cool fingers of wind caressed his ears.

This glorious power swirled within him, accelerating his carnal instincts. He wanted to soar.

Then the trees opened into a dead end, a rock wall that went up and up. Rather than skid to a halt, he slowed a little and leapt onto it, sinking his claws in. Alfred tried to scale it, only to slide back down, leaving gouges in the granite. He hit the ground and tried again before he finally accepted.

He was trapped.

The others stayed in the tree line, but came no closer. Only Arthur approached, head low and growling, ordering Alfred to submit.

Alfred peeled his ears back and yelled with rage at the starlit sky, refusing to be cowed. He lowered his head and met Arthur. They began to circle each other, studying another.

Even in his wolf-brain, Alfred knew he had no sense how to fight a werewolf. He had never done so before. However, what he lacked in knowledge, he had in energy.

He lunged, mouth gaping, claws out. Arthur sidestepped, knocking Alfred out of the air, sending his nose crashing into the dirt. With incredible reflexes, Alfred leapt to his feet and back around, feeling the graze of Arthur's teeth on his back leg.

The others began to howl around then and beat their paws to the ground as Alfred and Arthur sliced and bit another.

Then Arthur's teeth latched onto Alfred's shoulder sinking in and Alfred yelped, beating and pawing at Arthur. Unable to escape, Alfred used his own weight to roll backwards and toss a surprised Arthur aside, forcing the Alpha to let go.

He could smell his own blood and watched as Arthur, muzzle slick with it, licked Alfred's blood of his lips. They began to circle again, Arthur leering at him, he made a snickering noise, as if taunting Alfred.

Soon they launched at each other in a fierce open jaw attack, each attempting to crack the thing bone of their noses, each attempting to get the other's throat.

Taking a chance, Alfred curled his brown body under and clamped down on Arthur's inner front leg. The Alpha's blood enveloped his tongue, tasting delicious. It had a strange and unexpected affect on Alfred, like a drug. It made him want be more docile.

He let ago, trying to back up, trying to shake his head free. However, Arthur seemed to have other ideas and sprang at Alfred.

In the daze of fighting, Alfred reacted with a series of yelps and drew back, until his back hit the rock wall. Arthur was relentless and, when Alfred overextended in an attempt to bite the Alpha, Arthur swept his legs out and pinned Alfred to the ground.

And grabbed Alfred by the throat, teeth sinking in. At first, Alfred panicked, trying to get free, but Arthur's fangs went deeper and Alfred stilled, knowing his throat would be ripped out if he moved any further.

While his earlier wounds were already closing up, he knew instinctively he would not survive having his throat torn out. Those green eyes gripped him, held him and Arthur, without removing his teeth, settled his weight on top of Alfred.

Alfred's growls became whimpers.

Every second they remained this way ate Alfred's resistance. His wild rage was fast becoming adoration and neediness. He was submitting and if he didn't get out of this position he would be lost.

A trickle of blood ran down the side of his neck. They remained there for what felt like hours, but was only a few moments. Then, as if a light switch had been flicked, Alfred felt his feelings altered.

Arthur seemed to know he'd won, his lips grinned around Alfred's throat and he let go, licking a couple times before he lifted his chin.

He growled once in warning, and Alfred got the message. He mewled and tenderly licked the bottom of Arthur's chin in a sign of supplication.

When the Alpha was satisfied by Alfred's display of devotion, he forced Alfred to roll onto his stomach. Confused, Alfred only realized the Alpha's intentions when his legs were spread and he felt Arthur's thick arousal against his backside. There was no preparation, only the pain of penetration.

Alfred shuddered, whimpering at the hurt, but he didn't fight back. He sunk his claws into the dirt and lifted his rear higher to give the Alpha a better angle as he pounding Alfred into the ground.

As he listened to Arthur's grunts and felt his bites on his back and nape and that erratic breathing, he could see the others watching in silence this total act of submission to the Alpha.

It went on and on, even starting to feel good as Alfred passed the euphoria of just pleasing his Alpha, to something else. Something foreign to him. A warmth spreads through his groin and he lets out a gasping sound, clawing at the ground.

Arthur licked his nape and ears tenderly, and that drove Alfred over the edge. Arthur came soon after, digging his claws deeply into Alfred's side. He howled triumphantly at the moon and the others joined in as did Alfred.

After sliding out, he gave Alfred's face one final lick and left. Alfred, ears and head lowered, trailed after him, to hunt with his pack.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Groaning, feeling like an elephant had sat on his head, Alfred woke up and wished he hadn't. Flashes of last night entered his head. The worst part was waking snuggled naked against an equally naked Arthur on some kind of bedding of mattresses and blankets that smelled like animal, blood, and sex.

At least, his injuries were healed from his wolf state.

"Oh no," he muttered putting his forearm to his head. The night after a full moon was always the worst hangover you could have.

They were in some kind of cave shelter. The others laid clumped together and nestled in each other's warm. Arthur and he were on a raised platform separated from them.

As he attempted to sit up and slide out, the Alpha's eyes opened and settled on Alfred who froze. Without a word he snuggled back against Arthur who smiled.

While his wolf side took no issue with this, his human mind found it disturbing and abnormal. The surge of happiness and adoration of one side of him warred with the rational part saying to get away.

The Alpha began to pet him, playing with his cowlick, twirling it around his fingers, and Alfred gave a pleased sighed and then blushed from head to toe.

Oh no, he thought. This was bad.

"You bastard," he mumbled, but could put no heart into it. "What have you done to me?"

"Hmm… not enough yet," Arthur said, climbing onto Alfred's stomach and settling there as if it were the most natural thing.

Trying not to notice that the tip of Arthur's junk was pressing on him, Alfred turned away, face burning red. "This isn't fair."

"Tell me about it, love," Arthur said, tracing circles over Alfred's chest. He tried not to let the blood rush to his groin or moan in happiness. "In fact, tell me how you were turned."

Bite me! Alfred desperately wanted to say, instead he began, "One night, I heard the animals screaming in the barn" he left out Matthew, not wanting to involve his brother in his this, "and I grabbed my rifle and went out to check if a predator had gotten in."

"One did," Arthur said, hands starting to roam across Alfred's sides and chest. He teased his nipples. "Go on."

It was getting very difficult to concentrate, but somehow Alfred continued, "Instead, what I thought was a bear with glowing violet eyes attacked me in the barn. I almost couldn't move, I was so scared, but I managed to shoot it. Nggh…" Alfred groaned, face beat red when Arthur leaned down to suck on his collarbone.

"All my marks have healed," Arthur said, breathing warmly against his neck. "I must make new ones. Finish your story, love."

"Its… a little hard," Alfred gasped, feeling teeth and tongue on his shoulder. His hands fisted against the blanket. "After… after two… three shots… it ran off."

"How lucky," Arthur said, between sucks. "But only silver will kill it. You might have left a scar."

"Oh…" Alfred said, shutting his eyes, trying to chase his arousal away. The mere touch of Arthur was a powerful aphrodisiac. Nobody told him werewolves were like this. "It… It left me scarred. It bit my side before… ngh… it ran off. I… ugh… never saw… it-t… again. The others are watching!"

"Hmm…?" Arthur looked up, a trail of saliva connecting him to one of the marks he had left. "So? The mood of their Alpha affects them. They're getting turned on."

"What?" Alfred lifted his head, leaning around to see past Arthur. And sure enough, the others were already nibbling and kissing and pairing up with each other. It was becoming an orgy. "This for real?"

"Welcome to the pack," Arthur said. "Tell me of your first turning. How'd you get through it by yourself?"

"I… ah!" he groaned as Arthur went back to marking him. "Is this necessary?"

"It is," Arthur said simply.

Letting his head fall back, Alfred said, "I called the c-cops and w-was taken to the… the… hospital!" He almost moaned the last word. What was Arthur doing to him? "I noticed changes. And then…ugh…"

He grabbed Arthur waist, pulling him closer and began to rut against him. But stopped when Arthur bit painfully hard. "Ow…"

"I didn't give you permission," Arthur said, sitting back.

"Really?" Alfred said. "You can do what you want, but I have to ask."

Arthur gave him a displeased look and Alfred looked away and mumbled, "Sorry."

"And what happened?"

"Not much else. I got stuck in the silo on my first turning," something Matthew had helped with, "And I wasn't as strong as I am now. I made quite a mess in there though."

"You're lucky you didn't kill then," Arthur said. "It sounds like your attacker was a rogue wolf, much like what you were."

Arthur bent down, cupping Alfred cheeks, and began to kiss him softly at first and then quickening. It was only when their faces were close that Alfred realizes he didn't have his glasses on. He hadn't really needed the since becoming a wolf, but he still liked to where them with non-correctional lenses just because it felt better.

Pulling away, his breath hitched as Arthur peppered his throat with more kisses. "You must be fully submitted. You will live in my house and share my bed."

Not really listening, too lost in euphoria, Alfred grunted in agreement. He didn't know what he wanted anymore, only that he would die for his Alpha.

However, some part of him, some very independent sliver wondered. And dared to asked, "For how long?"

Arthur stopped, pulling back, face full of irritation. Arthur regretted asking. "Until I release you. Until I've rid you of that tedious rebellious streak."

Pushing Alfred over onto his stomach, Arthur resumed his marking on Alfred's nape. The young wolf clenched at the bed, his arousal pressed into the mattress.

"Arthur," he panted, "Please."

The other only chuckled.

"In good time, love." Arthur said. "I'll teach you everything. I'll protect you. You're a part of my little empire, love. Just wipe any thoughts of escape or independence and let me take care of you. You belong to the Kirkland Pack now."

For some reason, despite being entered by the Alpha and lost in the high of pleasure, Alfred could not help but feel his troubles had only begun.

For now all he wanted was to stay in Arthur's arms. Or that's all his wolf wanted. Yet in his heart, Alfred knew this feeling wouldn't last forever.

When I control the wolf in me… he thought. When I am stronger…

The Alpha grabbed his hair, thrusting deep. And Alfred soon became undone.

When it was over, Arthur collapsed against him and muttered in a contented voice, "All mine."

Words Alfred finished in his head, For now.

Alfred knew his future would not be what Arthur intended for him. He had lost one battle. The war was far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Q &A —
> 
> In this universe the Alpha almost never goes that far to make a wolf submit. It's usually only in the case of unusually strong and very stubborn ones.
> 
> Alfred is a special case and Arthur clearly wants him as more than just a pack-member. Arthur is totally taking advantage of Alfred's ignorance of werewolf society.
> 
> When he defeated Alfred, he became his Alpha. When he had intercourse with him in front of the pack, he claimed him as mate.
> 
> I didn't want readers to think Arthur had slept with the whole pack. In fact, he's hardly touched any of them that way. Most converted as humans and showed it by kneeling to the Alpha, kissing his hand, exchanging blood and then swearing total allegiance.
> 
> There are other packs (one led by Ivan), but Arthur's the largest and most dominant.
> 
> The Kirkland Pack doesn't accept just anyone. The others packs might have attempted to recruit Alfred if Arthur had not claimed him.
> 
> Note —
> 
> I think I might add some one or two-shot sequels that tell Alfred's journey to becoming stronger. Some will be fluff of his life in Hetalia with Arthur and others might show real conflict.
> 
> I wonder if readers would be interested of more stories in this universe. After all, I have a feeling Alfred might not be content to stay under Arthur's rule forever. *steeples fingers*


End file.
